Pump Peculiarities
by Anotherjaneway
Summary: One person effects the lives of everyone at Rampart Hospital and Station 51. Stoker is moved to action when the unthinkable happens.


This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode Forty Four

44. Pump Peculiarities Season Six - Episode 44 Short summary-  
One person effects the lives of everyone at Rampart Hospital and Station 51. Stoker is moved to action when the unthinkable happens.

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

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Long Summary-  
The gang gets stressed out by a new Los Angeles River Flashflood Prevention Project and the problematic risks especially effect Mike Stoker. The staff at Rampart drive each other crazy on a slow day. Station 51 responds to a horse stuck in a mudhole. A little boy is rescued from a city controlled flash flood by a last second brain storming swiftwater technique Stoker creates. A fire chopper calls in a teen drag race gone bad in the riverbed. Roy DeSoto is stunned when an ejected fatality is his son. Mike Stoker collapses with paroxysmal tachycardia and is treated. Deeply moved by Roy's grief, Stoker designs an alcohol awareness program and puts it on for the high school whose students were involved in crash killing Chris DeSoto.  
As a gift of gratitude, the students send the gang a music video showing what they learned and how they felt about the experience.

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. The Story Unfolds...

Season Six, Episode Forty Four.  
Pump Peculiarities Debut Launch: April 1st, 2007.

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. **Location to the Complete Current Story

*  
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy Date: Tue Apr 17, 2007 3:13 pm Subject: The Build Up..

Captain Stanley set a shoe onto the couch as he pointed to the latest memo sent out by Headquarters. "Ok, gang. The word's out. We're on standby alert for flash flooding in the hill country and all along the San Gabriel and Los Angeles Rivers."

Everybody looked surprised and more than a few of them automatically shot a look out the window, looking for dark clouds. "Huh? It's raining?"

"Nope. Nope. It no longer has to, thanks to a bunch of broad thinkers who think they know what's best for everybody living in all the cities located on the ocean side of the mountains. " said Cap, scowling.

Johnny looked up from where he was setting out chowder bowls for lunch.  
"I don't follow you, Cap. What have they done now?"

Hank sighed a long suffering breath of exasperation. "In the name of progress for all of southern California, they've just announced a happy completion of what they call the L.A. Rivers Revitalization Master Plan."

Mike Stoker was still stirring the soup pot. "Sounds ominous. Some kind of new park patrol?"

"Not quite." Cap told him. "You remember how our drinking watersheds used to be five years ago, with sandbars, natural tree islands and rock beds, don't you?" he said, looking at Mike.

"Yeah, I remember. We used to camp on some when the river beds were drier before the winter rains." Stoker replied.

Johnny was still unpleasantly being informed. "Well, what did they go and do now?"

"They've channelized most of the river banks close into the city limits."  
Cap told him.

"They've what?!" Gage exclaimed, setting his hands on his hips. "Now why'd they go and do a stupid thing like that for?"

Hank offered him an unhappy smile. "They think they're doing something for the greater good for controlling flash flooding. Today, they're opening for the first time, what they call the greater Los Angeles Aqueduct waterway system."

Chet scrunched his eyebrows together. "Sounds like a carnival ride."  
he said sarcastically.

Hank frowned. "Exactly what I thought, too, when I got the emergency courier notice today. There's gonna be timed water releases every day at noon down a tall mountainside cascade barrier trough,  
that will be permanently scheduled, like clockwork."

"Oh, no." Marco moaned. "That event's gonna draw every kid and teenager within walking distance to come and see the show."

"They figured most of them would be in school and tucked out of sight." Cap shrugged.

"Fat chance." Kelly spat.

Roy looked discomforted. "The river's a half mile from my house. Have they erected fences around these new channelways?"

"Not yet. The hydrologists are way ahead of the city services. And that's where we come in." Cap said unhappily. "We're to memorize all the routes into and out of the new watershed areas across the whole county."

The firemen were silent as they absorbed the news. "Everyday at noon,  
huh?" said Marco. "That's a sure recipe for disaster just waiting to happen.  
And why'd they have to pick water dumps for the weekends, too?"

"I'm not a city planner. Go ask one." Hank shrugged. "Uh, they're also going to be feeding in deep water every six pm, right around dinner time."

"Hang on a minute. What about all the drag races that go on in the bottoms at sundown?" Chet added. "They've been going on since I was kid."

"Or the bums camping out in the hillside rainwash tunnels?" Stoker added.

"Now you see why I'm chewing on these anti-acid tablets." Hanks said,  
pulling out a half empty roll from his shirt pocket. "Until those chain link fences are up, we're gonna be the only agency available to handle anything fishy that happens along the river for the next sixty days."

"Geez. People are gonna start dying, Cap. You think all the city mayors would-- would.. would realize the importance of putting in all the safety barriers first before they go activating anything." Gage grumbled.

"More folks are getting thirstier I guess." Hank said softly.

Gage looked away, getting increasingly mad about the whole mess.

"Where's all the water coming from?" DeSoto wanted to know.

Cap said. "Remember the Lower San Fernando Dam which nearly cracked apart in the 1971 quake?"

"Yeah.." said Roy. "That one shook loose a massive slide that carried away much of the crest and all the upstream concrete lined facing of it. Only a narrow band of dirt stood between 80,000 people in the San Fernando Valley 15 million tons of water poised behind a heavily damaged dam if I remember correctly."

"You remember right." Cap snorted. "Back then, we got disaster lucky beyond our wildest dreams when the worst, never happened."

"Oh, I remember that." said Kelly. "Weren't we part of the operation that helped evacuate all the residents in an 11-square-mile area in the valley while the water behind the earthen dam was lowered?"

Johnny frowned. "We were?"

"Gage that was a year before you transferred over here from eight's." Stoker reminded him.

"Oh." Johnny grinned cockeyed. "Thanks. For a second there, I thought my memory was getting faulty."

Chet pounced. "Gage, your memory's always faulty so I wouldn't bank too much on that reassurance you think you're feeling right now."

Johnny shot him a dirty look and bent to study the new city map issued to them from Headquarters that Cap was holding in his hands.  
Mike Stoker especially knelt down close to peer at them. He asked a question. "Have the tunnels down there been widened enough for our new Ward?"

"Yes. At least, they got that part of all the artifical channelization changes right." Hank grumbled. "They've got a new dam built downstream of the old one we saw that day on the news. It's called the Los Angeles Dam, which is now holding back a large reservoir 1.6 miles long and as much as 130 feet deep. The reservoir is now the terminus of the new main aqueduct system for Los Angeles, which'll soon be released in stages to supply 80% of the entire county area's water needs, right down into our backyard over these new barrier cascades."

"Is this dam safer than the last one was?" Chet said, making a face.

"Yep. Guaranteed. I guess the folks of Cudahy and South Gate finally got sick of being washed out every winter. It's built to withstand three times the max richter scale earthquakes the designers say that will regularly happen around it for the next century." Hank shared.

"Famous last words." Chet mumbled.

No one chided him.

Hank sighed again. "Now,..." he said, taking in a deep breath. "These new protocols I've got stacked up on my chair are how this whole ball of wax is going to start rolling for us, starting today." he said handing out thick packets of new ink scented fire department guidelines. He went right on talking. "The new river's southern stretch in our service area forms the heart of an industrial corridor stretching nearly unbroken from Lincoln Heights to Long Beach. In this new area, the busy Long Beach Freeway (I-710) and several high-voltage power lines run within a few hundred feet of the riverbed. Several rail yards are located along the L.A. river's banks in this stretch as well, creating hazmat considerations we'll have to plan out for the future in case of a chemical spill from a train or boxcar. And, just outside of the corridor lie some of the most densely populated cities in the state. That stretch has already become a source of embarrassment for many city planners. Graffiti is already lining its walls, and garbage is piling up along the bed faster than workers can pick it up while they're building it."

"That's going to raise our biological contamination risks significantly." said Roy with worry.

"Sure is. Until those fences go up to curb the brunt of it. They're not so worried about the paint problems as much as they are about the trash. Paint dries safely enough." Cap told him. "And before you ask, according to Vince, all the homeless persons and heroin addicts are still camping out underneath all the usual bridges. I'm afraid they don't have TV sets or any radios to warn them about the water releases that will be beginning down there. L.A.F.D. choppers say even more drag races are being spotted taking place in the new channel because of all the fresh flat concrete that's been laid down. The river's condition in that way is especially bad just south of Boyle Heights, behind the high school." Cap said. "We're to begin neighborhood watch patrols at all the tunnel access points during our daily hydrant inspection rounds, a.s.a.p. while the fences are going up."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Why are we suddenly the enforcers here?" Johnny said unhappily.

"Yeah." Chet said, agreeing with him. "Why can't the cops keep everybody kicked out?"

"They're overwhelmed guys. There's more of us, than them, as you know.  
Guess we're...seen as being pretty convenient and the absolute fastest way to solve a problem."

"Just terrific. So we've got a whole entire day to start coming up with new routes for swift water rescue plans." Gage scoffed.

Cap met his eyes in misery.  
"Actually, we've got only about three hours left. Tops. It's already nine o'clock."

The gang fell silent and stunned.

Hank attempted to cheer the air. "Let's read all of these, over last night's left over chowder." Hank said, holding up his own copy. "We'll be able to think of solutions a bit faster on full stomachs."

Mike Stoker remained sitting on the couch, studying the new road map traces along the riverbed. "Cap. I think I'll pass on food. My gut's getting a little upset."

Johnny was sober and growing quiet. "Yeah, yours and ours both."

Cap took sympathy and tossed Mike his roll of Tums so he could eat one first.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap and the gang reading a memo by the couch.

Photo: L.A. River cascade.

Photo: An L.A. River spillway.

Photo: Cap with a pot of chowder.

Photo: A bridge view of a concrete river bed, with graffiti.

Photo: Chet and Stoker, looking unhappy.

*  
From: Jeff Seltun Date: Thu Apr 26, 2007 8:56 am Subject: Night and Day Difference..

All the gang jolted when the tones went off and created very unpleasant shakes inside each and every one of them. Chet was clear headed enough to pull the chowder pot off the hot burner and he turned off the stove.

They ran for the vehicle bay while L.A.'s voice offered more.  
##Station 51. Unknown type rescue. Access road C,  
Sepulveda Basin and Van Nuys Boulevard. Access Road C, Sepulevda Basin and Van Nuys Boulevard. Incident is being reported from an emergency phone at Mile Marker 9. Time out : 9:08. ##

Cap was in no mood to waste time. He acknowledged the station on the move using the Ward's radio mic. "Station 51. 10-4. KMG 365." In one hand, he clutched the new city map outlining the altered waterway course protectively.

In the squad, Gage was anxious. "Is our call's location on the riverway? This....." he broke off. "It's not fair, Roy, we're not even ready to handle things like that yet." he said, leafing through the water course facts and details that Cap had given them in the packet he had never set down.

"It might be. I don't rightly know. I think where we're going's a wildlife refuge along on a three mile stretch east of Griffith Park. It won't be paved. I just know I know how to get there. Chris wrote his high school junior final paper on endangered species last year and we went nearby here once to birdwatch and take some photos for his presentation." DeSoto replied. "There's a ranch flanking a parking lot and a couple of athletic fields."

"That's right. I think I've been to that ranch buying hay bales. Aren't those bottoms known as the Glendale Narrows?" Johnny said.

"Yep. There's the sign." said Roy, pointing as they went by a brown painted reflective one. "And there's the L.A. river. Looks kinda high."

"Oh, that's just great." Gage gushed under his breath miserably.  
Nervously, Johnny looked at his watch. "We've got two hours until the first reservoir cascade. What kind of call do you think we're gonna get?" Gage asked, rubbing his face in the wind as it poured through the open window of the hurrying lights and siren bristling rescue squad.

They were passing by cones, and brightly painted barricades that the city was going to put into effect just before noon to keep people away from the water while the first controlled flood did its unpredictable first work of scouring away a new deeper channel through the area.  
Gage nodded in appreciation when one of the road workers hastily shoved a construction horse out of the way so they could pass by.

DeSoto answered immediately. "Something recreational." he quipped trying to put his partner at ease. "I don't think too many folks are actually working when they're visiting a city park."

Johnny shot him a dirty look but it was only half hearted. He began to relax when they finally spotted a woman running towards them across the field, waving and shouting. "There." he said, showing Roy what he had spotted.

"She's it." Roy agreed, trusting his own orienting instincts, too.

The waiting was over.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Mike Morton was flipping through a very short stack of charts that he had already memorized, drumming his fingers on the desktop in utter boredom.

That kind of sound usually grated on Nurse Dixie McCall's nerves as soon as she heard someone doing it, but today, it never even bothered her. She yawned again where she was sitting dully on her ER desk stool and she continued to watch her coworker mill aimlessly about the base station. "Finding everything okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Thanks, Dix. I am." said Mike, as he tried to occupy himself with something that was actually useful, once again.

"Umm..hmmm." Dix grumphed with mild amusement, using him as an object of humor.

Morton heard her teasing scoff, but pretended to ignore her as he flipped his charting pages without even reading them.

McCall shifted her head to the right, over her shoulder.

Dr. Brackett was putzing with the EKG monitor, unnecessarily putting it through simulator strips on its various lead configurations. Joe Early,  
was hip deep into the steel and glass pharmaceuticals cupboard, trying to find something to organize alphabetically, but annoyingly, he was realizing fast that McCall had already done the same thing, hours ago.

::Well, at least I've got something to look at now.:: Dixie sighed, thinking again.::Even if it's just a bunch of doctors bored to distraction, messing up my workspace.::

"Ah, ha!" said Joe, pulling out a box of narcotic. "Xylocaine. This box was behind the Zantac ones. It's out of order."

McCall let her head fall onto her folded hands. "Oh, I'm so busted. You got me." she said sarcastically. "Look fellas, I know it's slow. But you're beginning to drive me absolutely nuts. Why do you have to stick your noses into everything right by me? There's a whole hospital for you to poke about in all around us." she said, fluttering irritated but elegant fingers pointedly in the air.

Morton angled a well chewed pencil over his shoulder. "We're still waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing." Mike smiled blandly, without looking up.

Dixie shot a glance over to the Mr. Coffee maker just as it was beginning to burp and sizzle and belch as it percolated. McCall squinted at the dial on it. "Twelve cups, huh. That's not gonna be enough."

"Three cups each? That's plenty." said Joe, neatly straightening the errant drug carton into its new place before he reclosed the glass door on it. Absently, he polished a white sleeve on the handle until it shined. "What? Are you looking to get a few palpitations today? At least, that'd finally give us a patient to treat." he said, throwing a hand up at the empty waiting room.

Kel and Mike chuckled at Joe's comment.

McCall made a face at Early.  
"Very funny. Go stick yourself with a dirty needle, huh. Then at least, I can get busy giving Labs some contamination orders to run."

"Ooo, that'd be very bad. I'm a surgeon." Joe said, holding up his hands as if he had scrubbed like one. "Gotta protect my hands."

Behind them, Kel toggled the base station receiver and hailed a random firehouse. "Rampart Base to any available rescue squad in quarters, please respond."

##Squad 99. Go.## came a reply back almost immediately. The voice was hurried and covered for some reason.

Kel's eyebrows went up when he thought he heard sounds of active cleanup and hosework and a whole lot of laughing::Washing the trucks up inside after a fire? At least somebody's found a way to play:: he mused with a smile. "I'm checking out the hospital's auxillary EKG station. Can you run a defibrillator check for me on your end. I'm on the twelve lead. Sim Mode."

##Stand by, Dr. Brackett. Hang on, let me drag it somewhere dry. We're.. ## said the paramedic.

"Cleaning up.. I know. I can hear the horseplay in the background." Kel told him gruffly.

##Sorry, doc. We're bored. We just got back from a car fire in a parking lot. A smelly one. And that's all we've had for four hours.##

Brackett chuckled, letting his medic man off the hook.  
"Yeah, we're bored, too, Milton. Drum us up some business on your next call, would ya? We're falling asleep in droves over here."

##I can always loosen a hose coupling and bean the captain.##

"Nah, not worth getting fired over." Kel said. "Ready?"

##Telemetry's on line.## said the paramedic.##I'm getting.  
course V-Fib on simulator in all leads.##

"That's it. That's what I've set."

##Shocking testers..##

The EKG monitor's rhythm leaped in a fake countershock in response and converted to a viable one in the normal end result response machine mode.

"And that's NSR in a clear transmission. Thanks, 99. Don't work too hard." said Kel.

##Wish I could say the same to you, doc.## the medic quipped back gleefully. ##Squad 99, out. Hey! Quit squirting me! I'm on the radi--*spap*##

Kel sighed as he retoggled the talk button to off in irritation. "Everybody's a comic." He turned around and leaned on the EKG monitor, scratching an itch in between his shoulder blades with the corner of it. "Anybody got some lotion handy? I used the wrong soap again in the shower this morning."

Dixie, vexed, tossed a bottle of Phisoderm, aiming straight for his head.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was deceptively dark under the shade of the river trees at the far end of the parking lot.

Cap leaped out of the engine cab and together, he and the rest of the gang took the woman's arms to steady her as they got the whole story. "Ma'am. Calm down. We're here. It's all right. Don't panic. Just tell us what the problem is and we'll take it from here." Hank reassured her.

The woman opened her mouth and said..

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Stoker driving the crown behind Squad 51.

Photo: Roy and Johnny grabbing gear out of storage.

Photo: Roy and Johnny standing near a female witness.

Photo: Morton smirking hugely.

Photo: Kel, Joe, Dixie at the base watching an EKG strip.

Photo: Cap talking by the Ward, outside, in turnout.

************************************************** From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy Date: Thu Apr 26, 2007 11:34 am Subject: That Universal Touch..

"It's Trixie.." the woman gasped as she let Cap set her down at a picnic table. "She fell into a hole and she's sinking in mud. I..I can't get her out."

"A child?" Gage asked, putting on his gloves.

"No, umm.. my horse."

Cap and the others stiffened unconsciously when they heard that. But just as fast, before the young woman noticed, they snapped back into pure professionalism.

Stanley was genuine when he smiled. "All right. We'll see what we can do, Miss. Lead the way. Marco, Stoker, grab a couple of hundred footers and a lifter bag. A stokes cradle web probably isn't such a bad idea either.  
Maybe we can get something around her before she goes in any deeper."

"Ok, Cap." they said.

Gage eyed up the woman differently when he saw her take a shaky misstep. "Are YOU hurt at all? Did you get tossed off while riding her?"

"No. I'm fine. It's nothing like that. Not at all. I noticed my mare wasn't at the feeding trough this morning when I went to add in their worming supplements. So I looked around and that's when I found the broken barbed wire on the outer fence near the park. I think a tree limb came down and tore it apart."

"Is it electrified?" Kelly asked, grabbing a pair of wire snippers.

"No. Geez, do I look like I'd do that kind of thing to an animal to you? I'd never force compliance on any horse that way. I ask them to work only when they want to." the horse owner said vehemently while she showed the firemen the fastest way to the river bank.

"Best way to have a horse/owner relationship. That's what I do." Gage countered before things got ugly. "Ma'am, is the horse conscious?" Johnny asked.

"Half way. She's so tired from struggling. But I think her legs are okay.  
Nothing's broken. But she's getting cold. Real cold." sobbed the woman.  
"My guess is she got trapped sometime after one last night."

Hank pursed his lips in a big sigh. "I'll go call Doc Coolidge to make a house call. Do what you can." he told his men, thinking their call was more and more likely to end up as euthanasia than rescue. "I'll give us an hour, but no more."

Everybody got to work and headed to where the woman was pointing.

Gage found the mare in a shallow ditch, lying on her left side in a muddy quagmire. Her white and red spotted hide was trembling and already, the horse's eyes were white ringed and sunken, deep in shock. He tied off a rope to a nearby tree for his own safety belted line while Roy prepared another to fit around the sinking horse's whithers. Chet and Stoker took Gage's rope to offer him some leverage. "Okay, keep talking to her. I'm going down to see how she's doing." Gage told the woman.

The woman blurted out nervously. "Do you know what you're doing? I mean,  
you're just a paramedic.."

Gage smiled as his legs sank down into the chilled ooze. "I own four horses myself and I've been around most others all my life. I'm fair when it comes to providing first aid for them. You could say I have a natural affinity." he said,  
thinking of his roots.

The woman finally noticed the color of his skin. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." the woman flushed.

"..frightened. We know." said Roy. "It's okay. You want her rescued fast before anything bad happens and believe it or not, so do we. Why don't you stand over here by me and keep a hold of Trixie's new rope. Keep her nose up out of the water so she won't start panicking while trying to breathe so close to the water's surface."

Marco threw a tarp over the horse's flanks to build up some body heat.

"Whoa girl.. Easy now.." said Gage as he lowered himself closer to the mare's head where it flopped in the slime. He reached around and felt the pulse point under her jawbone. "It's fast, weak. Her gums are off color. She needs oxygen. All this mud's caving in against her ribcage whenever she kicks."

Cap's eyebrows went up. "Do we even have anything that might work that way?"

Johnny looked up with a shrug. "Sure, a regular mask on high flow'll work just fine. Just... stick it right against one of her nostrils and hold it there. Horses breathe through their noses only until they absolutely have no other choice in the matter. Don't let her body size throw you off. Her lungs aren't that big."

"Okay... Stoker, you heard Doctor Doolittle here, start ventilating her on some pure O2, pal." he chuckled. "And I know what else we're gonna be needing past a good veterinarian..."

Gage looked up from where he was scooping out some mud from the mare's dull eye. "Oh, and what's that?" he grunted from where he sat, waist deep in mud.

"More muscle. I'm calling in L.A.F.D. City. They're the strongest firemen we've got for pulling. No machinery's gonna be able to move in through all this soft ground. It's gonna be us.. versus her, earth's gravity, and the mud." Stanley said no nonsense.

Gage nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Guess you're right, Cap. There are no convenient trees overhead to rig a pulley onto for an engine back up." he said, looking up.

Roy was dabbing at the mare's neck right over a large vein, with an alcohol swab. "Ma'am, can we treat her further? She's most likely very dehydrated." Roy asked the owner. "The least we can do is start her on some fluid flow."

"Yes. Go ahead. Do anything you have to do, please, just get her out of there.  
My poor baby. Just relax, we're all here.." she soothed.

The mare gave out a pitiful whinny and she gave up trying to free herself.  
Her head flopped back into the muck and her one upturned eye closed tightly in fear.

Johnny quickly hauled up on her halter to keep her from drowning. He set the horse's caked head into his lap where Mike with the oxygen, could reach it. "She's a fighter. Or she would've been dead hours ago." he told the owner. "She's still hanging in there." he grinned.

"She was a preemie. Born two weeks too soon. But she got up on her feet right away despite of not being able to nurse for hours until her muscles loosen up." said the woman proudly. But then the tears flowed. "She can't go now. Not like this.." she cried. "Oh, Trixie.."

The mare began to gasp, and shiver in all of her limbs in the cold mud. Her owner's distress was effecting her own.

Cap came over to lead the woman away. "Come on, let's go meet the vet so you can give him your horse's age and history so he'll know better how to treat her once he gets here."

Once they were gone, Roy eyed his partner. "Johnny, what do we use for her I.V.? Do you know?"

"Plain, normal saline. One of our burn irrigation bags are big enough.  
Eighteen gauge into a jugular. Don't worry about pushing too much. Giving 4 to 5 liters first is common for starting horse surgeries so I've learned."

"About here?" Roy asked, poking at the sluggish ropey vein.

"Yeah. Afterwards, do a piggyback saline lock under her jaw. The doc's probably gonna want to give her a stimulant after we get her out of here." Gage said. "Tape it off normally. There's no way she can dislodge the site with her forefeet. She can't reach up that high without bending her neck." Johnny offered. "And that, she's not gonna wanna do anyway, because down means burying her muzzle deeper into the mud. It goes against her instincts."

"Whatever you say, junior. You're leading this one. I'm way out of my element here. It's been eleven years since I've drilled skills in an animal lab."

"Yeah, well, a horse is no different than a large dog anatomy wise. I wish we we could shift her onto her belly. Her internal organs weight is suffocating her."

"I'll start digging around her." said Chet, flinching a little when the mare twitched.

"She's too tired to move now, Chet. It's okay. You're safe around her." Gage told Kelly.

"But not the mud, get into a safety belt.." Hank said, returning. "The doc's here."  
he announced.

Doc Barney Coolidge arrived, still wearing street clothes and a civilian hat. "I came as fast as I could. Johnny, how are her vital signs?"

"Slowing from normal." Gage told him. "Also, she's no longer tearing up." he said, tapping on her cornea with a clean finger. "Skin's still pale pink, though.  
So's her tongue. Stoker pulled it out a minute ago when she started snoring."

"Okay. How are her legs?" asked the Doc.

"All four are intact and were kicking quite nicely ten minutes ago." Chet grunted as he and Marco dug futilely at the river ooze that was trying to rebury the white mare again.

"All right. Let's assume no spinal or limb trauma. Her owner says she's a four year old so her neck is strong enough to withstand the whole weight of her body. That's where we're going to fasten the main ropes to get her out of there." Coolidge planned out. "Roy, how's that coming?" he asked of the intranvenous line DeSoto was taping off.

"It's running. Wide open. And there's a mandibular saline lock waiting for her medicinal kick in the tail."

"In good time, boys. I want a multiple set of arms at her head first to help this mare as she climbs out once her shoulders are free. Nice job with the tarp.  
Her shivering's steaming up her muscles enough to move soon." he said, feeling under it. "Ma'am, do you have a horse trailer nearby and some dry blankets?"

The owner nodded eagerly. "Yes,.. I'll...I'll go get them.." and she dashed off down the river trail for the ranch.

Doc Coolidge knelt near the edge of the mire and nestled close to one of the mare's ears. "Easy, dear. She'll be back. I just want you to keep resting until the other firemen get here. I promise we'll all help you get out of all this nasty stuff you've fallen into just as soon as it's humanly possible. Can you wink at me yet?" he asked the horse.

The mare snorted, blowing out a muddy mist. But she didn't move.

"Here, chew on that for a while." Coolidge said softly, shoving a sugar cube into her mouth from his tan coat's pocket.

Shuddering, the horse opened the screwed shut eye and regarded the vet with a growing calmness as she was cleverly distracted from her plight. The long tongue retracted back inside her mouth as she used it to crunch away on the sweet square. "Here you go, Johnny. Better than smelling salts. Keep feeding them to her. As much as she wants." he said, pouring out a bunch into Johnny's muddy hand. "Keep that O2 on her, too. She's probably got a ton of lactic acid built up in her system from working so hard trying to get her feet under herself inside that hole. I'll numb her up some so she'll try to stand on her own in spite of it after I jumpstart her energy reserves with some nor-epinephrine when the boys are ready." Sirens grew in the distance as the rig from Los Angeles finally arrived.  
"Ah, there they are. That was fast. Are you ready for this?" asked the kindly Doc Coolidge of the firemen and the horse.

Station 51's crew nodded. "Any time you are, doc."  
And in response, the mare sloshed her heavily mired tail as if swatting at a fly.

"Good. This won't take long." he said, rubbing his cherub-like hands together. "No siree. Won't be long at all before Trixie here's warming up on hot mash and sweet oats comfortably at home." he said, drawing up a hefty horse dose of stimulant into a syringe from his black bag.

L.A. City poured into the thicket, looking down at the mare who was finally looking up at them. "Okay, honey. Are you ready for your heroes to come save the day? You sure look like one h*ll of a damsel in distress.." said one lieutenant to the mud slicked horse.

Trixie swivelled both of her ears forward and neighed as loudly as she could.  
Her impatient sound was unmistakable and it made everybody chuckle.

"Yep. She's gonna make it." mumbled Coolidge to himself. "And all it took was a little hoof holding."

-  
Johnny could still taste acrid muck in the back of his throat. "D*mmit. And I brushed my teeth twice. Never let it be said that California has great tasting natural ground water."

"Oh, yeah?" said Roy, pouring him a cup of fresh coffee as he watched Johnny comb his freshly shower cleaned hair. "I got just the thing to fix that." And he slapped down two sugar cubes onto the table top with a grin.

Gage grimaced, taking delicious satisfaction as he aimed his sights maliciously as he finger flicked them both right back at his partner one at a time when Cap wasn't looking. "Funny man. I oughta.."

Zingg.. ZooOOOMm! Roy ducked and deflected them with a pot holder as he laughed openly.

Marco snickered from where he was studying the new guidelines they had been ordered to cover before noon. "Say, guys. Did you see what's on page fifteen? These conditions they're listing aren't gonna be quite so easy to handle as the others have been." he said.

"Oh, yeah? I'm not that far ahead yet." said Stanley. "What does it say?"

Lopez told him. "Current speeds can reach up to thirty five miles an hour across rapids breaking barriers and through all side diverting shunting conduits."

"For how long?" Cap asked, worrying a little.

"For about twenty minutes. As long as the time scheduled release flows."

"That's gonna suck." said Chet. "Cap, how are we supposed to grab onto anybody flashing by us in the river at that speed? Even our zip line can't fire out thread that fast."

Hank looked crestfallen. "That's what we're gonna haveta figure out guys.  
The ball's in our court. It's every station for itself until solutions are found."

"What a way to force inventions out into the open." Chet moped in his chair.  
"Oh, how I wish this was just another friendly competition. My head really hurts."

"So does my stomach." said Marco. "Can we eat now?"

"Yeah, go ahead." Cap said, lost in the paperwork Marco had pointed out.  
"Uh, could somebody get something for me, too? I wanna.. study this.  
some..."

"Yeah, I got it." said Roy, rising.

Mike Stoker shot out of his seat at the first scent of oysters and he fled the room without saying a word. The gang looked up in concern until they heard the sound of the engine's driver door opening and closing quickly.

They relaxed. "He's gone to get the map." said Cap. "He always problem solves much better off by himself. I'll bring him his lunch later."

"Okay.." said Johnny seriously, still watching the way Stoker had gone.

The tones went off twenty five minutes later and it was everything they feared would happen.

##Station 51. Truck 85. Child over a bridge in the L.A. River bed.  
12994 McKennet Point. 12994 McKennet Point. Cross street,  
Wilmington. Time out : 11:40.##

"Let's go. Let's go!" shouted Cap. "It's twenty minutes until the the first controlled flashflood. Move it. That's only two blocks away.."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap and Stoker struggling with a weight.

Photo: A horse wearing an oxygen mask near firefighters.

Photo: The vet, Doc Barney Coolidge, wearing a hat.

Photo: A horse lying down with an I.V. in place.

Photo: Roy, treating while looking down, outside.

Photo: Firefighters having a fun time rescuing a horse.

Photo: Cap, discussing near Chet, over soup bowls.

Photo: The L.A. County Aqueduct.

Photo: A bridge over the L.A. River bed.

*  
From: "Cassidy Meyers"  
Subject: The Life Broken.  
Date: Tue, 01 May 2007 01:42:47

Station 51 was the first at the scene.

Stanley got on his HT to wide broadcast. ##Squad 51, block off the bridge on the north side perpendicular to the road. We'll cover the south. I'll notify additional PD to reroute all traffic.##

##10-4, Cap.## replied Gage through the frequency.

Roy DeSoto parked quickly, straddling the double yellow no passing line, obstructing two lanes. The Ward, did the rest on the opposite side of the concrete river bridge.

Hank Stanley leaped out of the engine cab and was met by a CHiPs police officer who left the open door of his highway cruiser."He's down there hanging on one of the foot pilings." said the officer.

"Is he injured?" Hank asked.

"Not that I can tell. His friends said he climbed down on a dare. He hasn't spoken yet to me but I think he's only petrified by the speed of the moving water." the cop reported. "He's gripping the edge pretty tight."

The rest of the gang instantly moved for ropes, high angle gear, and gloves from the trucks.

"All right. We'll take it from here." said Stanley, unhappily eyeing the pedestrian spectators and other gawkers that had already gathered on the causeway to watch.

The policeman nodded and jogged off to chase away the last of the cars jammed up on the bridge that had been gliding slowly by out of curiosity.

He waited the half minute it took his men to get fitted into safety equipment.  
"Just the one." he told them. "Skip the spinal precautions. He's not hurt."

Roy let out the breath he was holding. "Cap, we'll eyeball what we're gonna need." said DeSoto as he and Johnny made for the high railing overlooking the river along the sidewalk.

"Make it fast." Stanley said, looking at his watch. "Marco. Go be an upstream lookout. Grab yourself a radio and switch to Tach 2. I'll get us an open mutual aid frequency there through L.A. in a minute. Chet. Go lay out three lifelines thirty yards apart on our side of the riverbank for when the downstream safety crews get here. Coordinate with Truck 85 when they arrive and get three men each on a line. Make sure their end man is securely belted in and held at the ready. Stoker, keep an eye on him." he said, pointing down at the boy in the river below.

"Cap?" asked Johnny, not needing to elaborate, asking the question.

Hank let out the pursed breath he was holding. "Okay. Get down there to him after tying yourself off the engine. I also want one of you to keep watching the water upstream for signs of beginning flood. Set your watches for noon exactly. I estimate that we'll have only five minutes or so afterwards to get him out of there once the release begins. Mike, keep talking to him. I'll be right with you."

They scattered to do their assigned tasks swiftly.

Cap pulled out his HT antennae again and started broadcasting their situation.  
"Engine 51, L.A. Confirmed one male juvenile on a bridge foot at the McKennet Point overpass. Water velocity is ten to fifteen, still pre-release at normal height. We need a swift water response of five engines, USAR One, an air squad, and a Battalion to coordinate and set up an Incident Command Post on the north side of the river closest to the victim. Also I'm requesting Tach 2 priority for all further company communications. This rescue will be shore based."

##L.A, Engine 51. Tach 2 is yours. Relaying your message to all agencies.  
USAR reports an E.T.A. of ten minutes. Battalion Seven in three.##

::Not fast enough. Not fast enough for us at all.:: Cap thought, looking at his watch again nervously. ::Why didn't I push for getting outfitted with proper water gear a little harder last year?:: he chided himself derisively. ::We're not ready. We've got nothing completely safe to work with.:: "10-4, L.A. " Hank looked down with worry at the small boy in the black shirt still clinging to the cement diverter. He could hear Stoker giving encouragement to the boy using a hand held megaphone. The engineer's voice was full of strain and anxiety that he was keeping barely hidden despite all his years of experience. ::Kid calls are the worst.:: Hank agreed. Stanley took up his position on the very middle of the bridge, and he began a wait.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"In a minute, two firemen will be right with you. We're coming down right now. What's your name, son?" asked Stoker, aiming his speaker down.

The trembling boy didn't look up or answer.

Stoker balled his gloved fists on the railing in frustration. "It's okay. I know you're scared. Keep hanging on just like your doing. Can you get your other leg over the other side of that barrier? Straddle it, like you're riding a horse. Your balance'll be better then. Can you do that for me?"

The child didn't respond one bit. His fingers remained gripping white in color and locked down deep into the moss growing all around him. One shoe was already dragging in the water as the boy's muscles grew more fatigued and Stoker could see he was beginning to have difficulty keeping it lifted out of the river long enough to ease its constant drag on the rest of his body.

Roy and Gage moved quietly as they laid their turnouts on the rail to prevent rope rub. Johnny was the one decided to dangle himself above the boy while Roy got set to lower him further on a half hitch using the Ward's bumper as a winch.  
Both remained vocally quiet so they wouldn't startle the boy.

Stoker's watch went off and everybody flinched as the noon hour begain sounding. Mike began to breathe faster. ::Not now. Oh, why now? He's still trapped.:: The engineer's mouth went dry and his eyes flickered far upstream to the visible mountain and the aqueduct threading down it. His heart began to pound as an unwelcome surge of adrenalin suddenly gripped him.

The cascade, had begun. In the distance, a roar was growing steadily as cubic tons of water entered the newly channeled river as it was released from the higher reservoir.

Cap shot into action. "Everybody! I want a solution. Right now!" he said to all of his men through his walkie talkie right as Truck 85 arrived to assist them and bailed out all its personnel.

Stoker could only hear the pulse racing in his ears as the morning's stress built to a head. He dropped the megaphone to his side and his eyes slammed shut as he began to think frantically. He gripped his shirt front reflexively as his heart pounded in his chest.

Long seconds dragged like nails in the air as everybody froze at the order.

Then Stoker shouted.  
"Cap, I think I got it!" he said, trying to ignore the din of his heart's fast beating.

##Go.## Hank encouraged quickly.

Stoker improvised, gasping softly, his emotions jumbling chaotically.  
"Uh,... rig ,,,rig..a hose on a rope.. Through it, like a leader. It's light. It'll float.. Use it as a catch. You and I can drape it in the water around the boy in a "U". When he's washed out, he'll snag on it for sure at the waist. It'll buy us more time for Johnny to get to him." he panted, legs trembling.

Hank nodded, casting his head heavenwards in instant gratitude. "DeSoto. You got one minute left. Then get ready to haul Gage out of there pronto!" he shouted. "We've figured out a fast rigged backup. Don't risk yourselves past that any later." he hollered.

Both paramedics nodded from where they were, Johnny still dangling suspended, with Roy, spotting him.

Cap ran for the Ward and so did Mike in a desperate dash to enable the quickly improvised plan.

Johnny could see the beginnings of new agitation in the boy as the child started to realize his new impending peril. The last thing the paramedic wanted was for him to start panicking. "Don't turn around to look or you'll fall. I'm right above ya! Just don't move! I'm almost grabbing you." Gage gasped, keeping his eyes on a deceptively beautiful twinkle a half mile down the horizon. It was the wall of arriving water. It had already found the river's flatter bed and was speeding smoothly towards them at thirty five miles an hour.

A sucking sound snaked and echoed around them. The air temperature dropped several degrees as moisture billowed out ahead of the flood.

Hank and Stoker worked hard to thread a rope through one of the short black accordian feeder hoses that was always fastened to the driver's side of the LaFrance. Then, when they were done, they dragged the whole apparatus across the road to the edge in their arms.

"Gage! Heads up! Watch him!" Hank hollered.  
Their warning completed, they flipped the rigging over the side of the bridge like an arching jump rope, on the downstream side, where the boy was. It smacked the water with a splash and they tied it off their rope ends to either side of Roy snugly.

Breathing hard, Mike and Cap leaned their hands on their knees in relief while the others took over. But still wanting to see the situation, they pulled themselves up on the railing and looked down, exhausted.

Johnny swung the last three feet towards the boy just as the crest of rapid water hit. It swept violently into both of them. The child screamed but the floating hose section caught him neatly at the waist, bending him in half.  
He was only under the water by himself for a couple of seconds until Johnny grabbed a hold of his pants top and hauled him up into his arms.

Seeing the rescue connect, Chet and Marco and a team from 85's hauled in on Gage's life belt guiding rope that Roy had thrown to them, pulling him neatly to the concrete slope of the river bank below the bridge.

Spitting out silty water, Johnny shoved the boy in front of him. "Grab that rope and climb out!" he shouted over the din of the rapids. The boy did so, his paralysis long broken by the shock of cold water. A kick to his butt sent him sprawling into waiting firefighter arms and a warm blanket. Then Johnny was dragged out by his rope on his stomach to the dry cement. Firefighters helped him to his slippery feet and all of them retreated just in time, escaping the rising water as the replenishment flood quickly peaked in the channel where they had been.

Gasping in exhaustion, Johnny grabbed the boy. "You okay?" he yelled over the din of the raging river.

The boy nodded and began crying as he reached out to grip Gage around the neck in a fierce and still frightened hug. He didn't let go.

Smiling, Johnny picked him up and carried him back onto the bridge.

Stoker was still squatting against the bridge railing wall with his jacket flung off at his feet when Roy and Johnny began a vitals set on the boy from Truck 85's bumper.  
"How's he doing?" Mike asked, still trying to catch his breath from where he and Cap were resting.

"Not a single scratch." grinned Roy, setting a BP cuff around the boy's arm.

"Good." said Stoker, burying his head onto his knees where he puffed. "I'm glad. Just......good." he stammered, still coming down from his fight or flight jitters. "It worked! It really worked." he said, still not smiling.

"I'm proud of you, Mike. That was the slickest rescue idea I've ever seen thought up on the fly." said Hank, patting his shoulder. "We'll submit that one a.s.a.p. to the chief when he gets here. Maybe with that in place, no more kids'll end up in a fatal sudden swim today."

Only then, did Mike allow himself to smile. The moment was bitter and sweet.

The captain of Station 85 saw their victim resolution and he cancelled all responding units over the airwaves.

An olive skinned girl burst through the cheering crowd and shouted. "Anton? Just what kind of trouble did you get into now? Mom's gonna kill ya."

"Ma'am, is this your little brother?" said Gage to the adult aged woman.

"Yeah. Is he okay?"

"Yep. He's a little water logged but only on the outside thankfully. You might want to tell him about the new flash flood schedule and about how he can't play down in the riverbed any more like he's used to doing." Roy shared, putting away their medical gear.

"Oh, believe me. I will." she said fiercely, taking him by the ear. "Can I take him home now?"

"Sure. But first, I'd talk to that police officer over there. I'm afraid your little brother's got some serious explaining to do about why the whole Los Angeles County Fire Department had to be called out here for him today."

"Don't worry. Those gums are gonna flap or my belt's gonna start to fly!  
Come on, Anton. Let's go pay your dues. You're gonna take anything they dish out to you, like a man." she scolded the boy.

Sullenly, the still dripping Anton followed his angry sister over to the CHiP lieutenant who was waiting by his squad car with an open notebook.

All of their HTs went off in a triple hailing beep. It was L.A. ##Station 51. L.A. Air reports that a drag race was going on in the bed just below his current position over Griffith Park. The flood threatened to overtake the two vehicles. They got out of danger but the pilot reports one of the automobiles has suffered a high speed rollover in a dry hillside channel. He's reporting one ejected who isn't the driver.##

"Let's go." said Hank. "L.A., inform our B.C. We're on the way. KMG 365." he acknowledged. Then he pocketed his HT. "Chet, leave those lines. We've got plenty more to cover ourselves." Kelly abandoned the rope coils he had been rewrapping on the ground. Cap shaded his eyes under his helmet and squinted up into the sky. "He's right over the middle of the park." he said about the fire department helicopter. "He's landing in McGregor's Square?"

"I know the place." said Mike snatching up his coat again, not caring that his uniform shirt was wide open and untucked while he tried to cool himself down inside of his sweat drenched T-shirt. "We're four minutes away."

-  
Engine 51 and Squad 51 roared up the dry side river channel parallel to a rainwash overflow draining trench a few minutes later and what met their eyes, was horrifying as the stench of blood curled in the wind and flowed into their open windows.

The landed helicopter pilot standing on the overlook slab above them was pointing urgently down, right at them. Then he gave a wave when he saw them get out of the vehicles in the proper spot.

"Oh, my G*d." said Cap, stepping out of his door. He got on the dash mic immediately. "Engine 51. L.A. We've victims times five at our location. Trauma is apparent with heavy vehicular damage. Send another helicopter response, urban rescue and three paramedic units A.S.A.P. to the wash channel immediately below McGregor's Overlook."

##10-4, Engine 51.## Multiple tones floated out as aid was called in en mass.

Cap and Stoker ran to the car first while Johnny and Roy emptied out all their medical gear onto the ground and rapidly put on extrication gloves behind them.

Hank and Mike skidded to a halt as an awake female staggered out of the car and began pointing to a high school aged, alcohol reeking, male driver emerging from the wreckage. Both were without a single major injury.

"It's all his fault!" screamed the hispanic girl. "You killed them you useless son of a---" she sobbed, pointing at him, grief stricken, with a finger. "Why did you have to drive so fast? We were already safe." she sobbed violently, wilting to her knees onto the hot ground.

Cap and Mike immediately went for the young male teen thrust through the windshield on the hood while Chet and Marco began checking another bloody male and female lying motionless near and under the car. Stoker pulled off a glove and felt for a carotid on the first teenager. "Cap, he's ...he's long dead. I think he bled out through his neck." he said, his pulse racing in horror.

"Both of these victims are gone, too." said Kelly, kicking away beer cans and the glass of a shattered wine bottle away from his shoes. "They've ALL been drinking."  
he said angrily.

A gasp from a new quarter stunned them as Roy DeSoto, hurrying with the drug and I.V. boxes, froze in place. His mouth gaped open and he immediately dropped them, paling. A wordless choke issued from his lips, his eyes never leaving the white face of the blond haired fatality lying on his back and throat mangled on the hood.

Johnny Gage grabbed his arm. "Roy, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked sharply.

DeSoto spoke, completely numb. "....chris..??.."

"What?!" Gage exclaimed. He rivetted on the young man's face and then he knew like his partner did, beyond any shred of a doubt. The Code F lying broken in front of them, was Roy's son.

Photo: The gang gathered by the firetrucks.

Photo: Cap overlooking a roof edge with an HT.

Photo: Marco tying off a fast rope.

Photo: Roy and Chet preparing life belts.

Photo: A flash flooding river.

Photo: A boy being rescued from the L.A. riverbed.

Photo: Boy hanging onto a rope in a flood.

Photo: L.A.F.D. Helicopter landed.

Photo: Stoker running by Engine 51.

Photo: Two car crash victims in a rollover.

Photo: Station 51 at a car crash, L.A. River bed.

Photo: Hispanic woman pointing at another man.

Photo: An ejected Code F on the hood of a car.

Photo: Roy in a helmet on his stomach, in shock.

*  
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy Date: Wed May 2, 2007 6:14 am Subject: Tight Focus..

DeSoto ran over to Chris and grabbed at his motionless stomach, trying to act. To think...

Roy's face contorted into a rictus of shock and grief and he immediately vomited. Johnny hung onto him. "Roy,.. don't look at him... Don't...look!" he cried in a whisper, pulling Roy's helmet off to free up his face. He quickly turned his partner's head, breaking his eye contact with Chris's body as he emptied his stomach into the riverbed's shallows.

Hank left Stoker by the car and took DeSoto by the shoulders,  
forcing him to turn bodily around once he was through getting ill.  
He supported his fireman, starting to lead him protectively away from the sight and smell of death and sun cooking beer. Stanley gave a soft order to the rest of the gang, still locked and frozen behind him. "C-..Cover them up. All of them right now." he hissed with pain. "But first, you've got to....move him off the......to snip that battery before.."

"Yeah. We'll get it, Cap." Lopez said with a dry mouth, trembling.

"Gage." said Stanley. "Look after those other two, best you can. I'm..."

"Cap, just get Roy well away from here." Johnny said, his face setting into a grim, going on guts expression. "He shouldn't have to see..." and he choked off, getting angry even as the tears began filling his eyes.

"We're on it, Cap. Go with him." said Chet, interrupting, insisting firmly.

Hank nodded. ::He'll be able to work.:: Stanley thought about Gage.  
"Come on, Roy. Come with me. Let's go right now... We're gonna walk someplace else." he spoke quietly into his ear.

Huge, almost silent, wracking sobs erupted into horrified cries of emotional agony a few seconds later as hard concrete reality worked its way inside DeSoto's mind mercilessly. He had become the father who was hopelessly lost and he was no longer in charge of anything.

Stanley hugged Roy tightly around his shoulders and he said, "I know it. Keep walking this way.." he said, voice breaking, as tears streamed down his own face. "We're gonna wash your hands off."

DeSoto's eyes were locked onto the sight of his son's blood on his fingers.

Cap covered them with a gripping glove, hiding them. "This way. The reel line's over here."

He guided Roy to the view obstructing bulk of the engine.

-  
Gage went to the two teenagers sitting on the ground. He talked after fiercely wiping his streaming nose. A noise of pain escaped him as he fought down his own reaction. But then he said, "Are you guys hurt.... anywhere?"

They were silent, upright, and didn't answer. Gage knelt and then he quickly pat down swept across them with his hands, looking for wounds and he briefly checked their eyes using the sunlight. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Two beers.." they both mumbled.

Johnny got mad. "Not very likely.." he hissed to himself. "All right. Can you both stand? We're getting away from the car in case it catches."

"They're gonna burn up in a fire?!" sobbed the girl, becoming suddenly animated in her drunken state. Gage prevented her from getting to her feet so she couldn't run over to her dead friends. The alcohol on her breath issued forth, heavily sour and fetid.

Gage turned his head, trying not to make a face of disgust.

From the corner of his eye, Johnny could see Stoker and Kelly gathering up Chris's body's limbs to set him onto the ground so they could open the car's torn hood to end any sparking risks from its power source. A yellow tarp covered his head now but a limp arm slipped free of it unknowingly to dangle down limply. Johnny could see several fingers had been broken. They were still bleeding. He sucked in a careful breath. "..no...no...." he said quietly. "There's too much water around down by them. They're soaked. And Chris,.. is being moved off the car." he said graphically. The simple ugly truth did its work and the girl stopped her hysterics.

Both the murdering driver, and she, began answering all of his medical questions.

Not long after that, the police arrived.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All Stoker could think about was how big Roy's son had grown since he had seen the last photograph Roy had offered him in the station's locker room. "I never got to meet him, Chet." He grunted a bit at his heaviness as they carried Chris over to the concrete slope of the river. "I had no idea he was in high school now."

"I think I knew." Kelly said tightly, his face twisted in pain. "Roy mentioned he was teasing Chris about not passing his driver's permit test. And about how he did it anyway last spring."

Stoker's heart pounded in his chest louder and louder as his surroundings got more and more unreal to his perceptions. ::No one should have to live through this. It's not fair.:: he thought. "Oh, G*d this is hard." he gasped, stricken, to himself.

"All right, I'm setting him down." warned Kelly, as he pivotted to lower Chris's head and upper body gently onto the massive stone slab wall. "We should find out for him, Stoker. So he doesn't have to wait and hear it from the coroner."

Mike staggered, panting as he released his burden. "Do it. Check him." he sobbed. "It's the only thing left we can do." he cried softly, re-covering the body's broken legs. He dodged a sudden stream of dark blood that ran out from under the stained tarp unconsciously before it could touch his knees and that made his odd growing nausea rise even higher.

Kelly exposed Chris's chalky bluish white face and tipped up his chin, opening his mouth. Reluctantly, bending near, with tears flowing, he slowly sniffed. Then he shook his head eagerly."He's clear. Not a bit of it." he sniffled tearfully. "The stuff's only on his clothes. From all the spilling in the crash.." He tried to smile.

"He was the designated driver?" Stoker read Chet's face, feeling a chest tightness for the first time where he toe crouched, hunched over on his hands.

"Yeah, maybe. Only it was...far too late." Chet whispered. "We should tell Roy, Mike. Just as soon as we can. I don't want Roy to think any longer that Chris died while on some stupid *ss drinking binge."

The world spun, and dizziness clamped down. Stoker had time enough to lift his head. "Chet. Something's..wrong with me.. I can't.....br---"

Mike Stoker lost consciousness then and fell. He tumbled down the concrete river slope bonelessly to land in the skin deep water flowing, golden sand at the bottom.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stoker awoke to the sound of loud beeping. It was an EKG monitor sounding out an alarm, reading acute cardiac distress.

"Mike.. Can you hear me?" he heard a familiar voice ask urgently. "Come on,  
open your eyes if you can."

Mike gasped under a demand valve pressed over his face, and did it. He startled when pure oxygen sucked into his lungs easily. The first thing he saw was the tall trunk of a palm tree lying right next to his cheek and the lofty green crown of it sticking into the sky. Panicking, he tried to sit up, to end the smothering feeling he was fighting. He was eased upright and held against someone's lap and hands. Stoker reached out desperately, choking, still trying to draw in a full breath.

"What is it?" Kelly asked a worried, hovering Gage about the engineer.

Johnny listened to Stoker's lungs and heart closely with a stethoscope,  
pressing his lips together. "I don't know yet. Just keep offering him ventilations if he still needs them."

To Mike, there were only swimming shadows of blue on blue. And black.  
He did not seem to be able to recognize his crewmates. Chet steadied Stoker's head, speaking soft encouragements as he helped him oxygenate.

Cap leaned in closer where he stood over them. "Is this... Is Mike having an M.I.?"

"It's too soon to tell, Cap." Gage's voice quavered. "I'm calling Rampart.." Johnny said, snatching for the biophone. "His pulse rate's off the scale."

---------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Stoker and Cap working desperately with tools.

Photo: Cap grimacing in emotional strain.

Photo: Gage, grief stricken in a helmet.

Photo: Cap, leading a shoulder supported Roy away.

Photo: A yellow tarp covered body.

Photo: A palm tree, looking up.

Photo: A fireman on an EKG.

Photo: Gage working on someone quickly.

Photo: Marco and Chet giving assisted oxygen to someone.

Photo: An EKG showing ventricular tachycardia at 180 bpm.

Photo: Gage calling on the biophone in sunlight.

*  
From : Patti or Jeff or Cassidy Sent : Wednesday, May 2, 2007 11:36 AM Subject : The Limbo Effect..

"Rampart, this is HT 51. How do you read?" Johnny hailed.

Hank winced at the omission of the squad's title.

Gage looked up as he impatiently waited for a doctor to come onto the line. The tears that were falling down his face, one by one, wouldn't stop. "Where's Roy?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"Vince's with him." Hank answered immediately. "He's not letting him out of his sight or allowing him to get into view of us. What do you want us to do for Mike next?"

"Keep him warm. See if he can do a Valsalva maneuver. If that doesn't work, start massaging a carotid artery. I already checked his neck. He doesn't have any bruits. Rub one only on a single side while watching the monitor. If he goes brady,.. uh,..... let me know." Gage gasped, thinking hard through his scrambling emotions. "And check him for head or spinal injuries. I know he didn't fall far, but it looked like he rolled fast."

The gang got to work.

"He's breathing fine, Johnny. Normally." Kelly shared as he loosened Stoker's belt buckle by reaching down over him. Mike was sweaty, shivering,  
and his skin was hot in spite of his color being so pale.

Gage nodded, almost breaking his green pen's point on his paramedic notepad around the vital signs notations he didn't remember scribbling down. There was a bloody fingerprint on the paper....He closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself.

##Squad 51, this is Rampart.## Dr. Brackett replied with puzzlement to Gage's unusual identification declaration. ##I'm reading you loud and clear.##

"Rampart, we've a Code I--" Gage's voice broke and he stopped talking for long tortured seconds. Stanley set a hand on his arm and squeezed it in comfort without looking at him.

##Johnny, I didn't hear all of that. You broke up. Repeat your transmission#  
Kel asked firmly, thinking faulty airwaves were to blame.

Gage swallowed dryly, got a hold of his wits, and then he turned totally paramedic.  
"Doc, we've a Code I, recovering from a sinkable episode and falling log roll of about fifteen feet. He's exhibiting supraventricular tachycardia of undetermined origin. On lead II, he's showing a rate of 180, skin's hot, non-flushed and very diaphoretic. He's somewhat stuperous and partially non-reactive to verbal commands.  
BP is 150 over 90, respirations were irregular initially, but now at twenty, deep and regular on one hundred percent O2. We're attempting Valsalva and carotid massage. Request permission for an I.V. and a dose of standby Adenocard."

##Go ahead with that injection I.V. push with a 500 cc bag of Normal Saline if his cardiac rate doesn't slow down with those vagal maneuvers in two minutes. Send me a strip, A.S.A.P. Then wire him for a twelve lead. I want to see what's happening more clearly, 51. Is he showing any signs of obvious injury that might be related to his recent fall?##

"Negative, Rampart." Gage reported when he got head shakes from Marco, Cap and Chet. "But,...he's...under some unusual stress currently." he said. ::We all are:  
came his thought, unbidden. ::Killer stress.:: "And he's had a lot of caffeine today in the form of coffee. Ok, I'm sending you a strip."

##Ok, 51. Watch for any rhythm degeneration into V-Fib. It might come with this kind of arrythmia.## Kel said after studying the feed into his base station. ##I'm suspecting these findings are mostly paroxysmal. Is he experiencing any chest pain?##

"Negative, Rampart. Just some tightness." Johnny said when Marco shook his head.  
"Also, his chest sounds are clear, without any signs of pulmonary edema."

##Okay, we'll hold off using nitroglycerin, MS and baby aspirin for now until we've tried just about everything else.## Dr. Brackett mapped out.

Chet looked up from Mike. "Johnny, he bore down twice for me, while holding his breath, but I don't think it's helping." Kelly said, still rubbing the left side of Stoker's neck with carefully pressed in knuckles.

##I see that, too.## said Kel, looking at the places where only subtle changes occurred while Mike tightened the muscles of his abdomen. ##Rate's staying the same.  
Ok, let's cease carotid massage. Johnny, go ahead and push that adenosine rapidly, followed by a 10ml saline flush into the port. If that doesn't work, we'll try a -blocker.##

"10-4, doc." Then he startled when something swept by on the monitor. He shouted. "Dr. Brackett, I think I just saw a Delta wave." And Gage went even chalkier.

Brackett became a steady presence, realizing that something else was very amiss apart from a firefighter being down with palpitations. He spoke no nonsense, making sure he got through to Johnny in the most effective way possible. ##That doesn't effect our plans one iota. His treatment's still the same. Just get yourselves more ready to handle any possible adverse outcomes. Carry out my orders to the letter, Johnny, and right now. He needs chemical or electrically paced conversion immediately.##

Gage leaned down and took Stoker by the sides of his face where he lay puffing under the positive pressure mask. "Mike, I'm going to be giving you some medication and it's gonna make you feel kinda lousy for about a minute. It's not too fun. You might feel short of breath because your pressure's gonna drop. Ready?" Then Johnny looked up significantly to the others. 'He might code.' he mouthed silently to them.

Stoker nodded and allowed Chet to lay him flat onto the concrete.  
He didn't see Kelly drag an ambu bag a little closer to his knees.

"Ok, here goes.." Gage said, starting the rapid injection. "This has an ultrashort half-life.  
Whatever it's gonna do or not do, will be over fast, Mike. Hold still while I deliver this."  
Johnny told him quietly. "Watch the sky or something."

Stoker regarded the regal date palm swaying above him in the middle of the ring of faces surrounding his own for long seconds. Then he slowly closed his eyes.

Mike felt the world drift away as an odd, flushing sensation began to sweep through his still twitching muscles. He tried to scream at the phantom pain but then he blacked out instantly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap on the biophone near a grassy hill.

Photo: Marco and Chet crouching in worry.

Photo: Brackett listening at his base station.

Photo: Johnny gripping Stoker's face in a close up.

Photo: Gage preparing an I.V. med.

Photo: An EKG showing classic Wolff Parkinson White syndrome.

Photo: A peaceful L.A. riverbed view and palmtrees.

*  
From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy Date: Wed May 2, 2007 10:11 pm Subject: The Ways of the Heart...

Stoker coughed, becoming conscious on the examination table.  
"I'm still watching the sky, Johnny.."

"It's not there anymore, Mike, that's the treatment room ceiling."  
Johnny replied, testing the engineer's orientation seriously.

Dr. Brackett moved into his field of view and smiled. "Now that's a little better, lucid vocalization. How are you feeling, Mr. Stoker?"

Mike focused inward, listening to himself and his heartbeat. "The tightness has gone away and I don't feel like I'm suffocating any more." he said, suddenly aware that he was wearing a nasal cannula.

"That's the Verapamil finally doing its job." Gage said, setting a foot onto the runner of Mike's gurney at his feet.

"What happened to me?"

Chet, who was standing nearby, answered eagerly. "Asystole, Stoker.  
You were down for ...what? Six seconds with no pulse at all? Man,  
it really sucked. I nearly sh*t myself. But Johnny said that it was just a side affect of the Adenosine. And after that first dose you remember, he did it again with a double a few minutes later, because your heart began racing like it was doing before to beat the band, and it was beginning to seriously effect your ability to breathe."

Gage lifted his head, looking tired. "After the third bolus, you still didn't return to sinus rhythm. So, Dr. Brackett finally let me call in a big guns calcium channel blocker to set you to rights once and for all. I'm glad it worked, because that means, you were never ever in any danger of having a heart attack."

"What was wrong with me?"

Dr. Brackett lifted his chin from where he was studying Mike's EKG monitor.  
"Something called paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia. Specifically,  
in your case, you had a bout of AV nodal reentrant tachycardia most likely brought on by adverse environmental stimuli. The rapid beating of the heart during PSVT can make your heart a less effective pump so that your body organs don't receive enough blood to work normally. Your lab results are still being ordered to rule out certain other trickier causes, just to be on the safe side." Kel said. "But all in all, you're doing just fine."

Joe Early, who was studying Mike's running EKG and comparing it to the earlier one in crisis, said. "I think you're right, Kel. His P waves were located either within the QRS complex or shortly after it with a short RP interval.  
And I definitely don't hear an S3 or crackles so serious problems that way are out.  
All we have to do now is disprove symptomatic preexcitation syndrome, prescribe a course of post care treatment, then send him home. Mike's narrow complex AVNRT is pretty typical of the kind, extremely common, and of no danger to you, Mr. Stoker, whatsoever. You're healthy, strong, and with that negative cardiac history, I'd be surprised if you weren't up and about and doing a series of jumping jacks and other exercises by sundown." he grinned. "Need me for anything else, Kel?"

"No, thanks, Joe. That second consultation was all I needed on this one."

"Ok, see you later at break."

Brackett nodded.

Joe Early exited the room.

Kel turned to Dixie, who was adjusting Mike's I.V. to a new rate to maintain his normal sinus activity following the abrupt termination of his SVT. "Dixie, I want a cardiac enzyme evaluation, a full electrolyte analysis and a complete blood cell count, also routine thyroid studies. Let's fit him for a take-home Holter. Oh, and please schedule him for an echocardiogram and a stress test."

"Why those last things?" asked Mike, folding a hand under his head on his pillow.

Dr. Brackett pursed his lips.  
"PSVT may start suddenly and last for seconds or days. Patients may or may not be symptomatic after a first attack. It all depends on their hemodynamic reserve, their heart rate, the duration of the PSVT, and the possibility of co-existing diseases. Incessant SVT, such as what you experienced today, can reoccur and eventually cause tachycardia-induced cardiomyopathy if it goes unconverted for too long and too often without prompt treatment.  
"The ECHO and a radiograph will or won't rule out a certain congenital heart defect known as an Ebstein anomaly of the tricuspid valve, the one physically invisible cause of this kind of PSVT. That stress test will give us another long ECG reading of how your heart's currently functioning. There's another structural abnormality know as Wolff Parkinson White syndrome, in which extra electrical tissue has grown inside of a heart's AV node setting up abnormal electrical circuits that may cause SVT. A person with WPW syndrome may be at risk for cardiac arrest if they develop atrial flutter in the presence of that new rapidly conducting accessory pathway. Extremely rapid ventricular rates during AF can cause deterioration to ventricular fibrillation. Sometimes, sudden death occuring with a bout of tachycardia may be the only initial presentation of WPW syndrome. I want to check you for that. Johnny thought he saw a Delta wave in V2 at the scene."

"What are those?"

"A Delta wave is a slurred upstroke to the QRS complex." Chet answered, being snidely bookworm. "It means your heart's cheating on refilling before squeezing out its blood again. Not a good thing."

Mike actually smiled for the first time since falling sick. "Thanks for that answer, Dr. Chet." he teased, looking up.

"Anytime." smirked Kelly.

Mike finally relaxed and he glanced at Dr. Brackett.  
"Okay, go ahead and run what you have to run. I don't want to die anytime soon. I've been doing this line of work too long to give it up now." Stoker tried to smile. "Say, doc, quite honestly, did I hurt my heart today?" Stoker asked.

"AVNRT is diagnosed in 50-60% of patients who present with regular narrow QRS tachyarrhythmias like you did. Patients with PSVT in the setting of a structurally normal heart have an excellent prognosis and typically move on to live long, happy and normal lifestyles without restrictions."

"And if my heart's found not to be normal?" Stoker said, picking at his bed sheets.

"I'd like to evaluate you on a detailed individual basis, in order to tailor make the best therapy and cure possible for your specific tachyarrhythmia. In order to best accomplish that, an electrophysiology study that takes a set of intracardiac recordings will help me map your heart's current accessory pathways and reentry circuits and tell me how they're functioning, right now." Kel told him. "This test involves placement of several pacemaker electrodes into your heart chambers to record electrical activity. The electrodes are placed via a catheter that is threaded through the veins to the heart, under local anesthesia in the cardiac catheterization lab.

Dr. Brackett took out his stethoscope and began a followup exam on Mike.  
"I'd also like to do a cardiac catheterization and coronary angiography, but only if your stress test result is abnormal. This would be done under local anesthesia using a dye in the arteries to highlight any blockages and any possible new damage.

"Also, I've already ordered an ambulatory ECG for you. This is because you arrived here with your symptoms stopped and the ECG reading medicated normal. We'll be monitoring your heart over a period of 1-2 days. The Holter will document any abnormal heart rhythms that you experience. You'll wear the monitor device while you go about your daily activities. You'll also keep a diary. That way, if I find any abnormalities on your ECG recording, I can compared it with what you were doing and feeling at the time. If you'd like, I can monitor you for a few weeks or months to assess the frequency of the recurrence of these arrhythmias and heart rates."

Mike sat up on the bed. "Oh, doc. That sounds like going through a whole heaping lot just to pinpoint out a few maybes."

"True, but what you've suffered and what you're going to suffer symptom wise for the future, won't go away by itself. It's here to stay. We don't have to do heart surgery, you don't need it. We can easily prescribe medications to keep the PSVT at bay." Dr. Brackett turned to McCall. "Dix, would you get him on 240-480 mg Verapamil SR PO qd to prevent a recurrent PSVT incident today. Follow it up with Digoxin, 0.375 mg PO qd. And Mike, those are both by mouth."

"Thank you." Stoker sighed. "I hate needles."

"No problem. Now getting back to the Holter monitor. I can use it to adjust or change medications based on just on clinical findings,.. I can repeat an ECG at will or plan further therapy if your condition worsens in any way while working."

"That's just it, doc. I'll be working. As a messy, sooty, actively overheating firefighter.  
Do you think a battery pack sensor will stand a rat's *ss chance of surviving through all of that in a live fire?" Stoker reasoned.

Kel's face fell. "Well, no. Probably not."

"And I really don't like the idea of popping pills daily before the first gray hairs set in, you know what I mean?" Stoker insisted, sitting up a little straighter.

"I do. All right, here's an alternative. I have a cath lab procedure available.  
Radiofrequency catheter ablation. It's more than 90% effective in curing PSVT to the point that it'll never recur nor require any further medication."

"What does that involve?" Mike asked, interested.

"During this procedure, special plastic tubes called catheters are inserted into a vein into the upper leg/groin area and are advanced to the heart using a fluoroscope. The catheters are used to record electrical signals from inside the heart. They can locate precisely the site from which the SVT originates. Radio waves are delivered at the tip of this catheter to the precise location of the SVT, creating a small coagulation of the tissue approximately 2 mm in diameter. We burn out that area, effectively turning it off. Then we withdraw all tubes and wires and we're done."

"How long will I have to stay here?"  
"Catheter ablation procedures are generally performed in an outpatient setting or with an overnight stay for observation."

"And the risks?" Gage asked still learning as Stoker was doing. "Sounds like a fairly new procedure."

"Oh, it is. But it's been highly successful. Complications, which occur at a rate of 1-3%, include deep vein thrombosis, systemic embolism, infection, cardiac tamponade, and hemorrhage. The risk of death is approximately 0.1%. The lifetime risk of fatal malignancy as a result of radiation exposure is low to none."  
Brackett offered.

"I'll do it." Mike decided even before the doctor got out his last sentence.

"Ok," Kel smiled. "I'll go make a few phone calls." And Brackett left them for the black phone on the wall.

Chet frowned, holding out a hand. "Mike, wasn't that a little fast?"

"Not really." said Stoker. "It's either pills, a bionic Holter strapped to my belt like a twenty four hours a day, seven days a week scba bottle, or feeling like crap again later like I felt like earlier. Not much of a choice to consider, Chet,  
now is there?"

"No, I guess not. Want me to tell Cap how you're doing?" Chet asked.

"Sure, go ahead. And find out about Roy for me, will ya?" Mike whispered.

"I will." Kelly promised solemnly. "I'll be right back. His replacement's not here yet and so we're still 10-7." And he left the room.

Stoker took a deep breath and nodded at the news of their station's status.

Gage fussed with Stoker's I.V. "They'll be transferring you to the cardiac wing upstairs now. If I know Dr. Brackett like I think I do, he'll have you trussed up like a chicken and undergoing that quick fix inside of ten minutes." he said.

"That's a good thing. I don't really want to remember today for much longer."

Johnny nodded, lowering his head miserably. But then Dixie came over with a blood drawing tray from the back cabinet and he put on a neutral expression quickly so she wouldn't notice his or Mike's emotional weakness.

Dixie launched into her usual bedside manner with firefighters. Drawl and artificially sarcastic. "Policy, boys. I'll apologize in advance so here's this ailment's nurse to patient and paramedic speech. In most people, supraventricular arrhythmias are not dangerous. Mild arrhythmias, such as isolated premature beats, may require no treatment at all. Supraventricular tachycardia may also be a side effect of cold remedies."  
she leaned into both of them while she dug for an artery. "Most paramedics don't know that one." Then she straightened up to loosen the tourniquet that she had tied around Stoker's arm. "And this, is what you failed to do today, so remember it, Mr. Stoker.  
If the episode of rapid heartbeat or palpitations is your first, and the symptoms last longer than a few seconds to a minute or two, call a rescue squad."

Gage rocked forward on his toes and stabbed an I told you so glare at Mike behind her lecturing back.

McCall went on fully aware of what Johnny had done, but refusing to show it.  
"Or, if you have had previous episodes of supraventricular tachycardia, and the current episode does not go away with vagal maneuvers, the coughing, deep breathing, or muscle tensing, the following conditions warrant a visit to the nearest hospital emergency department. Do not drive yourself to the hospital."

Mike's attention was drifting while he flexed his muscles one by one to see how they effected his EKG readout's audible rate. Dixie poked him in the chest to get it back.  
"Ever.." she punctuated with a firm nail stab.

"Ow.." Stoker complained.

"Pay attention, Mr. Narc'd Up Boy. Call in paramedics if you have rapid heartbeat and feel dizzy or faint, if you have rapid heartbeat with chest pain or if you ever feel short of breath with rapid heartbeat. While you're waiting for help to arrive, you can try the following things to try and avert the attack. Hold your breath for a few seconds.."

Johnny was mouthing snappy comebacks silently in the background.  
"That's if you're not already fainted."

"Dip your face in cold water.." McCall droned.

"Try not to drown when you faint." Gage added sotto voce'.

"Or cough.."

Gage mouthed, 'Bend over first and wait for the examiner's gloved finger to get inserted."

Stoker was in hysterics about now, but the Verapamil kept his heart rate minimal.

Dixie caught on, but she refused to let Gage distract her from her job.  
"Tense your stomach muscles as if you are bearing down to have a bowel movement." she finished her sampling and bent Mike's elbow up.

"But don't fudge your shorts or you'll gross out all your rescuers." Johnny said out loud, making Dixie grin.

She ignored him. "If these maneuvers don't work, lie down and relax. Take some slow, deep breaths. Often, your heart will slow by itself.  
If the symptoms continue, get immediate transportation to a hospital."

Johnny fussed with Mike's pillows, fluffing them. "In other words, call me."  
he said, pointing to himself.

"No, I think I'll call any other station BUT 51's." Stoker shot back.

McCall pitched her voice even louder to be heard so she wouldn't start laughing, too. "The following lifestyle choices may help control your condition: Quit smoking, Reduce caffeine intake. Avoid illicit drug use.....Most stimulate your heart. Control your weight...... Obesity makes your heart work much harder. Work towards a diet low in fat, cholesterol, and salt..." she ticked off her fingers.

"In a firehouse?" Gage and Stoker both exclaimed together, giggling.

Dixie recited on.. "Cut back on excessive alcohol use...."

The silence in the room that followed was staggering with its arrival.

Stoker and Gage froze in place and both were biting their lips, fighting for control over...

"Say, fellas. Did I say something to offend you? You both look like you just lost your best friend." Dixie said, her eyes growing big with concern.

Mike Stoker's eyes filled then, and he took Dixie's hand. "You know Dix, in a way, we have." he said sadly. "And that's why Roy isn't here right now with me. You see, he lost his son in the river bed this afternoon. Umm,  
the car he was inside of, was full of drunk teenagers who were drag racing."

"Oh, no.." Dixie said, her mouth flopping open. "Not Chris DeSoto."

Gage swallowed quietly. "Yeah, he...he died because he got ejected, but uh, it was quick. From.... what we both saw.."

"Now I understand why you're here, Mike. Your heart must be breaking."  
McCall whispered as she hugged them both.

-  
Photo: Stoker lying in a treatment room gurney with Brackett and Gage.

Photo: Joe Early and Kel Brackett smiling in a treatment room.

Photo: Gage discussing with Brackett, treatment plans.

Photo: Dixie standing by a hospital door. Far shot.

Photo: Chet looking serious with Kel Brackett at Rampart.

Photo: A close up of blood getting drawn.

Photo: Gage looking sad with Dixie.

From: Pat or Cassidy or Jeff Date: Thu May 3, 2007 8:36 am Subject: The Life You Save...

Much later, Dixie visited Mike Stoker's room on the fifth floor.  
She found him sleeping, still with tears on his face and a notepad still resting on his lap. He had written something there, a single sentence.

'Students take a sip of grim reality.'

She frowned, wondering why he had written it, when he awoke at her light, vitals taking touch.

"What time is it?" Mike asked.

"It's late. You should have been sleeping hours ago. I thought Dr. Brackett told you to catch up on some rest. The ablation was a complete success. You don't want to undo all that nice cautery work of theirs now do you?"

Stoker just sighed, and picked up the notepad he had dropped.  
He slowly smoothed out its lined yellow pages.

McCall, sensing that he had something deeply personal to unload, took a chair by his side and she just waited, until he was ready to speak.

Stoker's eyes were red and the lines of fatigue around them made him seem far older than his thirty years. "It's not fair, Dixie." he finally said quietly. "I was there and yet, I still couldn't do anything to help them despite having everybody at the station with me, and all our fancy gear. Nobody's heard from Roy since it happened and I'm really, really afraid to even call his home. What do I do now? I feel so useless, so empty. Something needs to be done about things that happen like this so that they never ever happen to anyone else ever again." he cried.

"Shhh.." Dixie soothed, giving him a tissue from his bedside box.  
"It's okay. You're hurting. For yourself, for Roy... for Chris..."

Mike Stoker nodded, looking down as he squeezed tears out of his eyes. "I know that. I... I just want it to stop. And, I want to make a difference somehow for those students at the high school who're probably still doing, all those stupid crazy things."

"You're only one person, Mike. What can you do by yourself?"  
McCall asked gently.

Turning to the window, Mike Stoker saw the moon rising over the hill and he heard the sounds of traffic on the freeway coming through his open window. "I think I've almost figured that out. Would you help me iron out the details?"

Dixie smiled and moved her chair closer. "Sure. Show me what you have."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four weeks later, Dr. Morton was watching a news broadcast on a network channel while eating an orange. He was surprised when he recognized a few names flashing across the screen. "Say, Dix.  
Have you seen this?" he asked.

Dixie, recognizing the piece, nodded her head. "I sure have. Enjoy."  
she smirked. Then she left the room, leaving him to devour his bright tangy fruit, and the news story.

##Every 15 Minutes someone in the United states dies in an alcohol related car crash.

##This statistic is the basis of the "Every 15 Minutes" program. The program offers a real life experience without the real life risks. This emotionally charged program, entitled Every 15 Minutes, was an event designed to dramatically instill teenagers with the potentially dangerous consequences of drinking alcohol. This powerful program challenged students to think about drinking, personal safety, and the responsibility of making mature decisions when lives are program was proactive; it used very dramatic visual lessons in regard to death. It was staged last week at a time when it was known that teens were more apt to participate in the consumption of alcohol. Parent/child involvement was a large portion of this program, and all of it was designed by a local regular Firefighter Mike Stoker, an Engineer, at Station 51 in Carson.

##More than 950 students took their seats in bleachers as a grim reaper roamed slowly and silently around what would soon be revealed as the simulation of a grisly car accident....##

The screen turned black and Mike Morton was captured completely by the video shown.

A voice of a dispatcher blared over a loudspeaker, simulating radio response calls to an emergency as a tarp was removed, where he recognized as being at the local riverside high school, revealing the aftermath of a head-on collision. At first, Morton thought the footage was real, but then he saw the moulage look of cast blood and was reassured.

Empty beer bottles were strewn on the ground near the crumpled vehicles. The "dead" and "injured" lay in various positions in and around the wreckage. Only one person--the driver of one of the vehicles--was on his feet and stumbling around in a daze. He was eventually "arrested" for driving under the influence and taken to jail.

##This scene was only part of a two-day event. Close to forty volunteers from several local police and fire agencies volunteered their time and equipment to bring this innovative firefighter's new awareness program to life.

##Throughout the first day, the "Grim Reaper" removed a student from a classroom every 15 minutes. These students represented those who were dying as a result of an alcohol/drug related collision in the United States. Volunteers transformed these pre-selected students into the "walking dead" by painting their faces white and having them wear black robes.

##A uniformed officer then entered the classroom and read the student's obituary. The obituary was very realistic and included such details as the cause of death, past accomplishments, future plans and surviving family members.

##Meanwhile, a prearranged mock death notification was made by uniformed officers to each student's parent at their home or place of business. Each notification varied as to the cause of death and surrounding circumstances. Most parents were told they would need to identify the body at the morgue and were given information on organ donation. Even though all the parents were aware of the details of the program and previsously agreed to the prearranged death notification and knew that it was pretend, the resulting emotions witnessed were powerfully sad, and visceral as they were caught unprepared for the harsh realism of the notifications delivered.

##The "living dead" students, once made up, were returned to their classes to resume their day, with one exception,they couldn't speak or take part in any activities for the remainder of the day.

##Officer Vince Howard of the Los Angeles Highway Patrol... "The event was a real eye opener, because when a person who's killed actually is your own friend, it really hits home. It's was a great program for the teens because their lives are just beginning and so many doors are opening up for them."

##Howard was the cruiser cop first to arrive at the DUI scene, followed by more police officers, fire engines and ambulances. A sobriety test was given to the driver of one of the vehicles--the occupants of the other vehicle were pronounced dead at the scene after extensive resuscitation efforts by the paramedics of Station 51.  
The roof was cut off one of the cars to free an injured person trapped inside. The injured were strapped to gurneys and taken away in ambulances to Rampart Emergency-- and the dead were taken by a coroner to the county morgue. The one person who escaped the crash with only minor injuries was booked into the county jail for drunk driving.

##Because of the fatalities, a medical examiner soon arrived, as did the staff from a local mortuary. A male passenger ejected through the windshield was placed into a body bag and was transported to the morgue by the coroner.

##The injured passengers were transported to the hospital by ambulance and the worst of them by a paramedic flight helicopter. Hospital personnel at Rampart General worked on these victims until they were pronounced brain dead in front of their parents and family relatives to demonstrate what goes on in a trauma room following a drunk driving accident. The parents were then notified of their deaths officially and were asked about organ donation.

##The "drunk" driver was given field sobriety tests by officers, handcuffed and transported to the police department for a simulated booking.

##The teenager was found guilty of drunk driving and vehicular homicide at his sentencing hearing. His attorney from the public defender's office detailed his client's perfect student record and asked for a sentence of probation. In making her case against the defendant, a lawyer from the city attorney's office listed the crimes committed, the fatalities and injuries that resulted, and how the lives of families had been wrecked. She emphatically stated that probation wasn't enough, and that while the maximum 10-year sentence may serve justice, it would not heal the pain of survivors or bring back those who were killed.

##The firefighter father of a dead student then described how he had been deprived of his son, and made an emotional plea for the maximum sentence. He detailed how he and his wife wouldn't see his boy graduate from school or be able to share any more in his birthdays or holidays. He concluded by saying that his life had been devastated, and that it would never be the same.

##When the defendant was allowed to speak, he expressed his remorse and willingness to accept responsibility for his actions. He further stated his readiness to accept the judgment of the court. He received the maximum sentence for his crimes.

##The mock accident staged by the Los Angeles County Fire Department and the California Highway patrol was watched by all juniors and seniors from Riverside High School.

##The "dead" students, including the ones pulled from their classrooms, all spent the night at the Los Altos Jesuit Retreat. ##The students' absence from their homes that night was to further simulate that he/she was "gone" for the parents. Upon arrival at the retreat the students were treated to dinner and chaperoned activities, such as a game of baseball between students and chaperones, basketball or even swimming. Evening activities included interacting with police, State of California Alcoholic Beverage Control agents, emergency medical personnel, firefighters and members of the community. Guest speakers at that time included the Los Angeles County coroner, describing DUI accident cases, how he responded to the scene, contacting parents, and how that made him feel. Another speaker was a man who drove while intoxicated and was involved in an accident in which three of his best friends was killed.

##After listening to the speakers, students wrote letters to their parents. Some students were able to say things to their parents they were never able to say before. Students were asked if they would feel comfortable reading their letters to the student body and parents at the following day's funeral services for the dead. Each letter began 'Dear Mom and Dad, Every 15 Minutes someone in the United States dies in an alcohol-related traffic collision and today I died I never got a chance to tell you ..'

##Parents had the task of writing their own child's obituary. The real possibility of a child dying in this type of scenario created a tremendous impact on the teens, parents, friends, and the community. The range of emotions this invoked in participants and observers was vast. Each person reacted in his or her own unique way. The distinction in this program was that the community joined together as a whole to help teens find alternatives in their battle with casual involvement with alcohol.  
##The assembly ended with the showing of a music video. The video was compiled from footage of participating students two to three weeks prior to the program as well as footage of the mock DUI accident. The video was followed by selected students reading their letters to Mom and Dad along with presentations by police, parents, medical personnel and school officials on the horrible consequences of poor decision making when alcohol was involved and how it impacted them personally. The intent of this part of the program was to show the students that their decisions didn't only affect themselves. F/F Stoker called forward actual survivors and victims of an alcohol tragedy to drive home the point.

##Students were then asked to rejoin their parents.

##Firefighter Engineer Mike Stoker comments.... "Letters were exchanged along with, hopefully, renewed commitments of love and respect. From what I saw on that final night, made all my hard work, planning and fundraising, well worth it."

"It was extremely emotional," said Captain Stanley, who received much feedback from students at the high school, thanking his firefighter Mike Stoker for coming to stage the event. "It affected them in many ways, depending on past experiences."

##Rebecca Ellis, a senior who lives in Sunnyvale, said she can't drive yet, thought the program helped students to comprehend how scary and common alcohol-related accidents really were.

"For something to happen like this every fifteen minutes is mind boggling." Nurse Dixie McCall of Rampart Hospital said.

"I'm glad that we've put in the effort, because some people really need it." said Chet Kelly, another firefighter working at Station 51.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the second day of the Every 15 Minutes program event at Riverside High.

Paramedic Firefighter Roy DeSoto slowly stepped up to the microphone.  
"I hold in my hand, the high school ring, that Chris was wearing the day he ...died.. because of alcohol. Working in the fire department, I see a lot of accidents, and I always fear the worst, but pray for the best at each and every one of them. My dispatchers didn't have any information, but on that day, I know they said to hurry. I had no idea my life had been forever changed in a split second without my knowing.

"Yesterday, hopefully, I was able to show you just how many people's lives one person's choice can affect. Like what you saw enacted today on the athletic field. All of the emergency personnel, the parents, the friends that knew people involved in the accident--my--- my son.. Those are all the people who are really going to be most affected by your absolutely last, can of cold beer. So as you enjoy it,  
think about the others around you first before you ever decide to get behind that wheel.

"Chris. I will nev-- I will never get to see you smile, or hear your voice. I can only say, that I love you still. From the bottom of my broken heart."

From the darkness, came a young man, with a scar still on his forehead.  
He made himself look at Roy, offering a slow nod of sad respect, ..and remorse..

Then he gripped the microphone before the assembled crowd of high school students and he began to talk.  
"You know, I didn't even feel stupid when I said to them. Yeah, I'm all right. I can drive. Then later, after it happened, I remembered thinking. My friends? Yeah, so? So I won't get to see them grow up. That's it. They're gone, I'll never see them again, you know? You might think this strange but I couldn't even see what was going on. I was held back, in a corner, near a body bag. And then I was sitting in the back seat, of a police car, and I went off to jail, because I wasn't sober. I was doing things I wasn't supposed to be doing. I know I made a horrible mistake. I hope you don't either."

Johnny Gage hugged his partner Roy DeSoto hard and long, and tears flowed anew as he took his place as the final speaker of the day.  
"Students, take this lesson and use it, for the life you save, may be your own, or somebody you love. Drinking and driving is not just the onus of the person who made that bad decision. This lesson is not just for the two who were in that car and survived, or for the nine hundred of you, listening to us speak, or your families and friends.

"Despite what you may think, many people responsible for drunk-driving mishaps are not long-term alcohol abusers. They are social or irregular drinkers. In many cases, they are usually responsible near-adults like yourselves, celebrating a birthday, a class promotion, or maybe even for some lucky few of you, an engagement to be married.

#But they also, found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time when it came to their drinking and driving.

"So please, think before you act.

"Talk,.. to the "dead" assembled here in this auditorium. For they, are your lesson."

When the talk was over Chet Kelly spilled out of the audience on his way to shake Mike Stoker's hand. "Man, Stoker. I didn't know you had it in you. That program was...was.. well it was pretty cool, and deep.  
Yeah, I enacted in it, but doing so made me think of practically everything in a whole new light."

Mike Stoker grinned shyly but he didn't say anything when he felt Roy DeSoto come near his side.

Roy smiled, and took Stoker's hand in gratitude, shaking it, with tears filling his eyes. "You know, Chet. The heart's a peculiar pump in a lot of ways. You never know how differently it's gonna react in people. As a paramedic, how it does so, never ceases to amaze me."

"Oh, yeah? I'm just making sure that pump peculiarity isn't ever gonna be the Los Angeles River Waterway System ever again. And nice job, Mike.  
Are we doing this whole program thing again next year? Cause if you are,  
Count me in." Kelly said, smacking Stoker on the shoulder.

Inside, some deep pain inside of the fire station engineer, finally faded away....for good. "I got something to show all of you." he said to them.

"Oh, yeah?" asked Cap. "What?"

"To find that out, you're going to have to come with me to the station." said Mike Stoker, smiling.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, turn it on already, Chet. I don't want to miss any of it." Gage hissed.

"All right. All right. You don't have to bite my head off. I think I got the right channel. All we have to do now is wait for the TV to warm up."  
Kelly told him. "I wonder what they shot?"

"Would you just shush?!"

"Sorry."

Soon, together, the whole gang watched, smiled, and cried at the fruits of Mike Stoker's labors while the high school students' video gift to them, aired.

.com/watch?v=EN-Vm4KT9WA

FIN

Episode 44, Emergency Theater Live, Season Six Pump Peculiarites

-  
Pump Peculiarities

:) This episode is dedicated to the designers of the )  
Every 15 Minutes alcohol awareness program for young adults which was developed in Canada and adopted here. Countless thousands are moved and effected by the raw emotions created during these :) dose of reality demos and aftermath scenarios. :)

The following links are some Every 15 Minutes videos produced by students greatly effected by the event scenario programs put on at their high schools. These are four different works featuring their personal EMS, Police, Mortician and Fire Rescue experiences...

.com/watch?v=EN-Vm4KT9WA Canyon High School January 12th, 2005 Oxnard Independent Film Festival Winner:  
- Best Documentary - Audience Choice in the Teen/Youth Category

-  
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